


the world is always burning, always burning (the girl always dies, always dies)

by aryasbitch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode AU: s08e05 The Bells, Episode: s08e05 The Bells, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mad Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Minor Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, arya kills cersei hell yeah, soz ladies i love dany but she burns KL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbitch/pseuds/aryasbitch
Summary: Overhead the Red Keep, Daenerys Targaryen is oblivious to how Cersei Lannister had fallen moments prior at the hands of Arya Stark, whose death she is now responsible for, along with Sandor Clegane. Instead, satisfaction grows in her chest as the Red Keep flies apart, bloody bodies flying through the air.Daenerys does not turn to look down at them as she flies away on the back of Drogon, nor does she see the small brunette whose body lands in the streets of Kings Landing.8x05: The Bells AU where Arya continues on with Sandor to complete her list
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow & Arya Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	the world is always burning, always burning (the girl always dies, always dies)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "Am I the World or the Gurl" from pinterest  
> i own nothing but the plot, lmk your thoughts below  
> also shoutout to @sketchingwho for editing this, xoxo

“If you come with me, you die here.” Sandor moves away from Arya, heading towards the crumbling Great Hall of the Red Keep, and for a moment she almost turns away to leave. To run from King’s Landing, from revenge, and head home, to Jon, to Sansa, to _Gendry_.

But then she remembers the broken remains of Winterfell, the ghosts that would always haunt what was once her home, the look on Gendry’s face when Arya had said no because she had been so sure she would die in King's Landing.

The broken look on her face hardens, sliding back into the emotionless mask she’s spent so long perfecting, and she turns back to Sandor, who is now only a few feet away.

“I have nothing to live for. No one to go back to.” Sandor turns at the sound of her voice, clear and loud as it echoes through the room even as her heart cracks in her chest. Something passes over his face that Arya cannot quite identify, something she would say was regret or concern if it was anyone but the Hound, but it's passed by the time she has blinked again.

Sandor nods once, and together they leave the room. They make it to the Great Hall, having barely dodged crumbling remains and the heat of dragon fire as Daenerys passes overhead on the back of her dragon.

In the Great Hall, is Cersei, walking in their direction behind Gregor Clegane, three guards behind them. Both sides stop when they see each other, Cersei taking a step back as her eyes dart between Sandor and Arya. 

“Your grace.” Sandor mockingly bows, and Arya barely has time to smirk at his words before the guards are rushing at them. They’re far too easy to kill, and they're sent to the ground, dead, within moments of Arya unsheathing Needle and Sandor bringing up his own sword.

Gregor Clegane steps forward next, and Sandor says, “Remember me, brother?” Arya spares Sandor a glance before it flashes to Cersei.

“Ser Gregor, stay by my side.” Arya tightens her hold on Needle, the Queen sending her a look of pure terror. “Who are you?”

Arya cocks her head, bowing mockingly as Sandor had. “Arya Stark, _Your Grace_.” She sees Cercei’s eyes widen comically before Gregor steps towards them, sword drawn.

The fight is alarmingly similar to the one against the dead, weeks and weeks prior. Gregor doesn't seem to feel any pain, not even as Sandor chops off the hand holding his sword or when Arya pierces Needle through his chest. Nothing seems to slow him down.

Gregor picks up his sword once more, hacking at Arya even as she pivots and dodges. He catches her in the leg, blade drawing across her thigh.

She lets out a small cry of pain, falling back. When she stands again, a new limp in her step from the wound, she sees Sandor’s blade swinging up, and his brother’s head is cut clean off. Arya can taste bile rising in her throat as she thinks of the last beheading she remembers, of her father's death barely a mile away when Joffrey had called for his head. 

The memories flash across her mind, her sisters screams, the birds overhead, Joffrey and Cersei standing _—_ Cersei. Arya’s head turns sharply in time to see the Lannister carefully making her way backward, attempting to escape the room. When she sees Arya’s eyes on her, her own emerald eyes widen and she turns to run.

Arya draws Catspaw from its sheath smoothly, flinging it in the Queen’s direction. It lands in Cersei’s back, sending the blonde sprawling to the floor. Cersei turns her head in time to see the Arya advancing on her, yanking the dagger from her back as Cersei tries and fails to crawl away.

Cersei cries out but is silenced as Arya brings the blade to her neck.

“Valar morghulis, Your Grace.” The blade is drawn in a clean line across the Queen’s neck, and she only lets out a small sputter of blood from her lips before Cersei falls, face down, dead by the time she hits the floor.

Arya’s list has been completed. She had thought it would make her feel something, some sort of completion. She just feels empty instead. There is no sense of accomplishment, nothing that makes Arya feel that her journey South has been anything but a waste of time.

Arya turns back to Sandor, masking her growing misery, and the two wordlessly survey the damage. Cersei and her guards are dead, Gregor Clegane headless on the ground as well. Blood covers the ground from their deaths, and Arya knows she is covered in it as well.

Blood on her face, in her hair, down the front of her and covering the wound on her thigh and her two blades. Sandor doesn't look much better, blood covering him just as much as it does Arya.

But they’re alive. Even as the walls shake and crumble around them, even with the roar of Drogon in the distance growing in volume as he nears the Red Keep, they survived.

They seem to realize it at the same time, both pairs of eyes widening. Arya cannot help the grin that overcomes her face as her thoughts return to Winterfell. 

Despite the ghosts that are in her childhood, there is also her family. Bran and Sansa. And Jon is nearby. Maybe she can live, Arya thinks, maybe she can return home, return to Gendry. Maybe he will still want her, will still want to marry her. He had said he loved her, and Arya cannot help but think of how she loves him as well-

Drogon flies overhead, and Daenerys whispers _Dracarys_ , and the Red Keep bursts apart.

Arya’s last word sounds something like the name of a blacksmith she once knew, of a recently turned Stag Lord. But there is no one around to hear it as she and Sandor’s hearts stop.

-

Overhead, Daenerys Targaryen is oblivious to how Cersei Lannister had fallen moments prior at the hands of Arya Stark, whose death she is now responsible for, along with Sandor Clegane. Instead, satisfaction grows in her chest as the Red Keep flies apart, bloody bodies flying through the air.

Daenerys does not turn to look down at them as she flies away on the back of Drogon, nor does she see the small brunette whose body lands in the streets of Kings Landing. 

-

That is where Jon finds Arya, on her back in one of the streets close to the newly demolished castle. Jon doesn’t even look at Sandor, who is just as dead a few feet away, as he takes Arya’s body into his arms, spared from fire but drenched in ash and blood. Her head lulls back as he curls his sister closer to him, a cry ripping out from his chest as he attempts to wake her. 

Jon shakes her in his arms, presses a hand to her heart, but it remains still.

“Arya! Arya, please. Please, please, please.” His cries are unheard by the girl, by the corpse in his arms, and Jon only cries harder. Arya is _dead_. She’s dead, and Daenerys continues to burn the city even as the man she says she loves holds his dead sister in his arms.

Arya is dead because of Daenerys, Jon knows. Fury overtakes him then, blooming in his chest, just for a moment, but it ceases when he looks down at his lap again, at the body in it.

Arya is soaked in blood, and Jon does not know if it is hers or someone else's. There is a gash on her leg, and Needle is bloody on the ground a few feet away. Her hair is plastered to her forehead, matted with blood and ash. Blood coats her face, and Jon only smears it further as he desperately tries to wipe it away from her forehead and cheek.

Jon curls her further into his chest and only cries harder.

-

Gendry stands outside the Red Keep with Davos, with the remains of the army. Baratheon colors cover most of the tents, and Gendry has to constantly remind himself that _he_ is a Baratheon now, that they are _his_ men and soldiers.

He continues to stand outside the keep, horror on his face at the sight of Kings Landing demolished to bricks and ashes. He has only just arrived with his men, having to go from the North to Storm's End to call upon his men before heading back to King's Landing. When he had arrived, too late to the battle _massacre_ , all he could think about was Arya.

Because when Gendry had woken the day after the feast, hungover and full of regret, he had immediately sought her out. He had wanted to apologize, to fix his words, and had searched all over Winterfell before Lady Sansa had spotted him and notified him that Arya was _gone_ , that she had left to go who knows where.

But Gendry had known. Her list had not yet been finished, and the last name was a woman who lived in Kings Landing.

He had been furious at first because she had left without a goodbye to go on a fucking suicide mission, but then it set in that she had left on a _suicide mission_. She was most likely going to die in King's Landing, and he was never going to see her again.

The thought of her dead in the streets of his old home had been enough for him to ride to Storm's End, to proclaim himself as Lord Gendry Baraethon and rally his army for the battle in King's Landing.

Gendry was too late to the battle, though, and now the entire city has been burned to the ground and he has no bloody clue where Arya is or if she’s even alive.

Loud sobs in the distance force Gendry to break from his thoughts of Arya, turning instead towards the noise with Davos. They walk until they come across Jon, who is on his knees on the floor. Beside him is Tyrion, whose mouth is open and gaping at Jon and the small shape he has in his arms.

Gendry has to look again to identify it as a body, one soaked in blood and ash. The corpse has dark hair and looks so small in Jon’s arms, and as Jon shifts, the body’s face is revealed to show-

_No. No, no, no._

Gendry must make a noise because Jon and Tyrion both turn to look at him. Gendry moves without thought, practically sprinting to Jon’s side and collapsing to his knees to place a featherlight hand to Arya Stark’s bloody face.

A cry rips out of his chest, and Jon is either too surprised or too grief-stricken to react as Gendry grabs her from his arms, cradling her to his chest as Jon just had. Arya is so small in his arms, so fucking small, and it is so wrong because her presence had seemed to take up the entire room the last few time they were together in Winterfell, when he first saw her again in the forge after so long apart, when she had thrown the daggers with precision.

And her body is so cold in his arms, the only warmth being the blood still steadily leaking from the wound on her forehead and the gash on her leg. And Gendry hates how his thoughts go to the night before the battle in Winterfell, how warm her body had been against his. 

And now her body is just cold because she’s dead. Arya Stark is dead. 

-

Daenerys Targaryen dies at the hands of Jon, in order to protect the realm and out of fury for his sister’s death. When Jon confronts her, telling her she has killed Arya, Daenerys tells him it was an accident, that no harm was intended to come to Arya. But Jon will not hear it, and the dagger slips too easily into her heart.

Drogon disappears with his mother in one of his claws, and they fly east.

A moon later, when all the lords and ladies of Westeros have gathered in King's Landing, they hear of Arya Stark's death. Sansa is inconsolable, weeping openly in Jon’s arms because another one of her family members has fallen. Bran sheds no tears, too far gone as the Three-Eyed Raven even as a small part of him, the part that is still Bran Stark, screams and aches for his sister.

Gendry is silent in his seat, having spent every day since Arya’s death screaming and crying for her to come back. Now, he cannot look at anything but his lap as he thinks over every memory he holds of her, refusing to forget any little detail he knows about her.

Jon is named King of the Six Kingdoms, Sansa the Queen in the North, and together they lay Arya to rest in the Crypts of Winterfell, Needle buried alongside her. 

No one will ever know of her last moments, of her last words. No one will ever know her last breath was used to utter the name of her beloved, her last thought of him as her heart stopped.


End file.
